


Genoa II

by Thimblerig



Series: The Lion and the Serpent [14]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Confidence Games, Gen, History geekery, I got my research from The Google.Com, Literary Geekery, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Snippet FIc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 21:51:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5432090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thimblerig/pseuds/Thimblerig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"I know what your lying voice sounds like.  And in a church, no less, a church.  This church."</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Genoa II

**Author's Note:**

> A summary of this series: Post Season 2, Aramis and Milady have been working together, cutting a swathe across Europe with the occasional assistance of Milady's Irish maid, Kitty. They're not exactly the bad guys...

It was lovely, the cathedral of San Lorenzo in Genoa. Aramis sat discreetly in one of the back pews, next to a small brown woman wrapped in a sky-blue shawl. The carved saints set high in the arched ceiling watched impassively as they moved through the responses of the Mass, two specks in the crowd of devout. Far to the front, their mistress sat apart, dressed in shades of cream and white, veiled, the only colour on her a string of turquoise about her slender neck. So serene was she that she seemed a saint herself, carved from ivory, ageless and untouchable. It was their third Sunday here.

 _"Is í mo thuairim mheáite you cannot be entirely wicked, not if we come to church so often,"_ said Kitty. She looked up. _"One day I shall tell my cousins that I heard the great mass here, and the singing."_ She watched with shining eyes a small procession come up the aisle, a cluster of eminences of the church escorting a brilliant green dish, over a foot across, on a velvet cushion. _"That I saw this."_

"I found a lovely little place that sells hot chocolate down the street," he replied. "Can I tempt you, after?"

 _"And you say your prayers neatly, I cannot deny."_ They watched their employer break her stillness and turn, just before the procession of the dish would have come into her view. Two aged gentleman broke from the crowd of worthies at the front of the church and moved back to where the servants and the riff-raff partook of holiness. _"Oh no,"_ said Kitty.

One, in rusty black, had hair that stuck out in tufts over his ears, and his grey eyebrows quivered over his burning eyes. "My good man, I'll make it worth your while, but I _must_ know. Your mistress, is she really an initiate of the," his voice dropped, "of the Sisters of the Rosy Cup?" He went on in a rush, "Did she truly meet the Christ? What colour were his eyes? Did he speak Aramaic or, as I suspect, a dialect of Greek?"

The other, tall like a crane and gowned in red, with chemical stains on his fingers, said impatiently, "Yes, yes, but _how_ did she do it? A course of fasting and appropriate meditations? Of what preparations does she partake? If the knowledge could only be shared, what a gift to humanity!"

Aramis answered in a voice of sweet accord, "My good sirs, you ask too much of me. Sworn as I am in the service of truth and beauty how could I possibly answer your questions with any pretence of accuracy? I count only one hundred and fifty seven years myself, and dare not speculate as to the age of my Lady, even were it not highly discourteous to do so. As to her... unguents, how can you ask me such a thing? The body is a trifle compared to the purification and elevation of the spirit."

Beside him, Kitty said, _"You are being wicked again. I know what your lying voice sounds like. And in a church, no less, a church. This church."_

"Please forgive my companion," said Aramis. "She has taken vows to speak only Enochian until the turn of the season."

"Ah! The equinox," said Monsieur Crane.

"Indeed," said Aramis, and made a discreet sign. 

Monsieur's Tufty's eyes widened, confused, but he covered it immediately with a knowing look. "Quite so," he remarked. "Shall we talk further?"

"Indeed we must," said Monsieur Crane, "for the good of humanity!"

 _"We're doomed to hellfire,"_ said Kitty.

**Author's Note:**

>  _San Lorenzo in Genoa_ \- a real place, though I didn't use any pictorial references. Also the home of...
> 
>  _a brilliant green dish, over a foot across_ \- the _sacro catino_ , popularly believed at the time to be made entirely out of emerald (it's glass, but still very beautiful), brought to Genoa in the twelfth century, and one of the candidates for being the Holy Grail. The grail's inclusion into this story was largely accidental - I googled cathedrals in Genoa and this popped up because sometimes real history loves me. (ref. here: http://www.csicop.org/si/show/in_search_of_the_emerald_grail/) I now have a vision of Aramis, at a later date, putting his hand on a bible and swearing, 'I did not steal the Holy Grail, I did not counterfeit the Holy Grail, it never left the building and I am _positive_ that it wasn't _really_ the Holy Grail, stop looking at me like that Athos.'
> 
>  _I count only one hundred and fifty seven years myself, and dare not speculate as to the age of my Lady_ \- Loosely based on stories of the Comte de St Germain, who came along a little later (unless he _really was_ as old as he said he was). Eh, confidence games have been around a long time. (The _Canterbury Tales_ have an account of a fake alchemist, for example.)
> 
>  _Enochian_ \- the sixteenth century the Englishmen John Dee and Edward Kelly claimed to channel angels and transcribe their language, sometimes called 'Celestial', 'Angelic', or 'Enochian' (after the supposed last speaker of it).
> 
> The real question is, are my notes becoming longer than the story? How much more will Aramis stumble through a warped version of Sir Lancelot's romances? Will Little Timmy get rescued from the well?


End file.
